


What Do Girls Do?

by DorsetGirl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorsetGirl/pseuds/DorsetGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knows what he wants, but being Sam, he can’t do anything without <i>thinking</i> about it. A view of how they finally got together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do Girls Do?

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first-ever posted piece of fanfic! It was originally posted at [Lifein1973](http://lifein1973.livejournal.com/480606.html) on 25th May 2007, the day after I posted it to my own brand-new LJ.

“No Gene, you’ve had enough; I’m getting you out of here before you start a fight”. 

Sam pays the barman as Gene turns to the man next to him at the bar and slurs “And you can stop looking, arse-face, or I’ll see you outside.” Just another evening then. Just another evening in the pub with Gene. Why has Gene started bringing them to this seedy dump across town rather than the Railway Arms? And why just the two of them? It’s doing Sam’s head in and not only the one on his shoulders. 

Every time he’s with Gene, every time he even thinks about Gene, he gets a hard-on. But every time he imagines doing something about it, he withers immediately, in fear. One day he’ll get drunk enough to try it anyway. Or... ? A sudden thought. What if...?

Sam thinks for a moment and then turns back to the barman. He says “OK, let him have one more; make it a double. Then I’ll get him out”. Sam looks along the bar. “Sorry, mate,” he apologises to the man on the other side of Gene – he really does look like an arse-face – “he’s having a bad time at the moment, don’t take any notice”. The man shrugs and turns away.

Sam passes the new glass to Gene. “Here, get that down you and shut up”. Gene downs it in one and bangs the glass down on the bar. “And another, my friend, and another”. “NO Gene, out!” Gene struggles, but Sam is determined, and marches Gene to the door. Outside, the cold air hits Gene like a brick wall and he staggers. He stands still for a moment. Then, “Need a slash” he shouts, and lurches off round the corner. Sam follows him and Gene turns. “Piss off Tyler, can’t a man even have a run-off in peace with you around?”. He’s yelling now, swaying dangerously. He lowers his face towards Sam’s, menacingly, and grabs him by the shoulders, mouthing incoherently as the last double Scotch suddenly kicks in.

This is it. Show-time. Heart beating madly, Sam covers Gene’s mouth with his own, partly to stop him shouting any more and bringing the attention of the beat bobby to the state he’s in, but mainly because he just wants to, has been thinking about this for months, and by now Gene’s hopefully in no state to resist. Not that Sam knows whether he would resist. Bit of a risk. Anyway.

The response is immediate and overwhelming. It’s like being kissed back by a bear; hot and strong and hard. Gene flings his arms drunkenly round Sam, gets his tongue inside Sam’s mouth and starts grinding his hips against Sam. 

Sam would gasp if he could get any air into his mouth; he groans instead. It’s not quite how he’s imagined it – in his dreams Gene says his name first: Sam – but it feels bloody good anyway. He shifts slightly to bring his cock against Gene’s thigh. Oh God, it may not be how he imagines it when he’s lying in that shitty flat night after night all alone with his hand, but it’s still who he imagines, and thinking about living some of those dreams is almost enough to make him come straight away.

He swallows saliva – whose, he wonders briefly - and drags himself back to the present. Gene is still thrusting, more randomly now, slowing down a bit, Sam hopes he’s not falling asleep. Nothing else is happening though, Gene’s far too drunk to make any further moves, it’s up to Sam. If he wants to.

If he...? OK then. Here we go. Problem. Sam’s not sure what to do next; he’s never even thought this far before; in his lonely dreams Gene always takes charge. Sam’s always been confident with girls – well, until Annie anyway - but he’s never been with a man and he hadn’t imagined it quite like this, all down to him. Meanwhile Gene’s enthusiastic movements against his crotch have got him so excited he’s going to come soon, just can’t hold back, and the whole point of the exercise is to get Gene there too.

One thing for sure though, he’s been cast for the girly role in this, no question. All that Gladys, Dorothy, all the time. He gasps as Gene suddenly bites his neck before going back to tackle it from the inside again. So what do girls do? Sam thinks back to other times. OK, tease around the trousers a bit, that got a reaction, even more tongue if that’s possible, oh God yes, fumble with the belt, leave that it’s too complicated and it’s dark and who the fuck cares about the belt anyway we’re still standing up, it’s the zip we need, get the zip, bastard thing God how do girls do this while kissing and moaning and looking you in the eyes all at the same time, oh there, oh Jesus get the zip down and round the layers of the Y-fronts and ... there. 

Gene instantly steps up the thrusting, renews the kissing, groans loudly into Sam’s mouth. Sam’s mind is going to explode; get a grip, what next, you’re supposed to be leading things here. Put away that middle finger, idiot, you won’t need that yet, different equipment, curl those fingers, hold tight, move gently.

Oh, and adopt the back-against-the-wall posture for stability pretty damn quick because otherwise it’s Sam’s head on the cobbled alley; Gene’s out of control now, he’s humping, he can’t control his thrusts, he’s groaning like it’s torn out of his guts his cock is straining now in Sam’s hand he’s coming he’s coming and it’s hot and sticky and there’s so much and what the fuck do girls do with all this mess not on the bloody sleeves for Christ’s sake and oh god oh god oh god ohhhh. 

At least girls don’t have the wet trousers to think about as well as the wet hands. 

So now he’s got two lots of come sticking him up and he’s got Gene gasping for breath, leaning on Sam, head against the wall. Sam’s gasping too but he’s got to take charge here again, get them out of this before someone comes along.

Gene’s eyes are closed, and he’s so far gone Sam’s not sure he even knows where he is. Get him wiped off and tidied away, zip him up, wipe his own hands, get him home. Taxi. Maybe not, all this mess. Walk. Not too far. Push him into the flat again, second time this week, but this time it looks like he’s not going anywhere, not even tomorrow morning unless they’ve invented Resolve since last time Sam looked. But even now Gene’s not passed out, he’s grabbing Sam again, kissing him again. Sam starts to respond again, gaining the confidence to kiss back now, to run his hands over Gene’s back, hold him close. How does Gene manage to function, to perform so strongly with that much booze inside of him, is it just the strength of the man’s character, or is it the force of Nature? With this man they’re probably the same thing. 

And now, suddenly, while Sam is pondering this and wondering if he can get Gene’s trousers off, Gene pulls out of the kiss and looks straight at him. There’s no doubt, he definitely does know where he is now, and, remarkably, he looks very pleased about it. 

Gene steps back.

Pulls Sam down so they’re sitting next to each other on the edge of Sam’s bed. 

Gives him a big smile, looks him in the eyes and kisses him hard on the lips. 

And speaks at last.

“I never thought you’d do it Sam. I never thought you’d have the nerve.” 

Sam gapes at him.

“You forgot how well I can act the drunk didn’t you!” A pause. “But I wasn’t acting the rest Sammy-boy, that was pure bloody natural gold.”

Sam continues to gape, totally thrown now. “You knew? You knew I – fancied you? And you don’t mind?”

Gene looks at him pityingly. “Mind? Of course I don’t bloody mind! I’ve seen you looking for ages, but I knew you’d never bloody get round to it. Remember that stupid under-cover of yours at the pub; you really thought I was drunk that night didn’t you?”

Sam laughs out loud. “Guv, you were slaughtered!”

Gene looks affronted. “Yes, but not at first Sam, not at first; and that gave me the idea. How I could give you an excuse, a bit of a push”. 

Sam looks back with a rueful grin. “Well you did that all right, I’ve got brick patterns all down my back even through the jacket. But, I wasn’t sure if ... I never knew whether you...”

“Well, doesn’t do to advertise it, does it Tyler, not in this job. But yeah, I like it with blokes”. Gene sees Sam flinch and leans away slightly, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. 

And continues, “But as your superior officer I couldn’t make the first move, now could I? You decide to scream for help and I’m locked up in me own nick for serious assault. I had to make it your choice.” 

Sam only takes in the first part: he likes it with blokes – he’s done it before. This isn’t how it ends in his dreams; Gene shouldn’t be so casual about it. He’s done it before. This isn’t what he’s hoped for all these months. The words come out before he can stop them.

“You’ve done it before?” It doesn’t sound right, too jealous. Sam tries to look merely interested.

Gene holds the cigarette to his mouth, poises the lighter and looks at him speculatively. “Well, it’s just an urge isn’t it? Has to be done sometimes”. 

That doesn’t sound right either, Sam thinks. That’s a punch in the guts.

He looks at Gene; hurt, but trying to hide it. “Just an urge?”

Seeing the quickly-controlled tremor on Sam’s face, Gene lets out a breath and smiles briefly. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and continues “It’s a big risk though, Sam, getting involved at work. Got to be sure it’s worth it, that there’s something to it. Something more than just sex.”. 

Gene puts the cigarette and lighter down, and puts both arms round Sam, talking quietly against his ear. “And I needed to let you make your own mind up.”

Sam still isn’t taking this in. He asks again. “Just an urge?” 

Gene moves back a little; he kisses Sam, gently this time, on the mouth. “No yer daft Jessie, you’ve not been listening, have you? This – with you - isn’t ‘just an urge’. Back in that alley, that wasn’t ‘just an urge’, that was like coming home. You are not ‘just an urge’. You’re special, have been since the day you walked into my department, throwing your weight around”. 

Gene looks him in the eyes; moves in for the close. “I just wasn’t sure how interested you were.”

Sam draws in a shaky breath, smiles at last with relief as he leans in towards Gene. “Very, Gene. Very”.

Gene holds him tight and strokes his back for a moment, then says “Good. Now come here, got something for yer. Judging by the past hour, I think you’re going to like it.”


End file.
